


Firsts

by DaydreamDestiel



Series: Prompted Fics [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaydreamDestiel/pseuds/DaydreamDestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt by @prettyboydean : <br/> destiel + first times (does that make sense? I hope that makes sense) thank you for doing this! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firsts

The first time Castiel had realized the depth of his feelings for Dean, had been the first time he’d been human. Lying in that hospital bed, alone, frightened and full of feelings and sensations that were completely foreign to him. He’d understood the moment he’d heard Dean’s voice on the phone. Before, when he’d been an angel, it had been easier to ignore the intensity of his feelings. It had been easy to label it a bond, or a friendship.

Once he was human though, the emotions that had rolled through him when Dean assured him that Bobby would wire him money, and they’d get him home, well those had left no doubt. He was in love with Dean Winchester. Head over heels, once in a lifetime (even one as long as his), in love with him.

It had been much later when Dean had finally accepted that what He felt for Castiel was more than just friendship. If you’d have asked him a day earlier he would have told you that Castiel had been his closest friend, and that he’d betrayed him, betrayed his trust, and that was why it hurt so bad.

Dean knew though, when the worn and dirty trench coat drifted to shore, that the feeling he’d been pushing down wasn’t just friendship. It was love, plain and simple. It hurt so god damn bad, because he’d loved Cas so much more than he’d ever have let himself admit. Love was why he’d picked up that coat, tears streaming down his face, and tenderly folded it. Love was why he’d put it gently in his trunk, though he’d known it’s owner was never coming back. Love was the ache that wouldn’t stop no matter how much he drank or for how long.

* * *

The first time that Dean had kissed Castiel, they’d been drinking. They’d been dancing around each other for days, both of them trying not to give in to the temptation to confess their feelings, because how could they?

Dean knew that Cas would never want him that way. He’d never shown any interest and besides. Were angels even interested in things like love and sex? I mean, sure, Anna had been, but she’d been human then, and Cas was a full on angel again.

Castiel knew that Dean preferred women, and that his vessel was most assuredly not a woman. He had no reason to suspect that Dean was attracted to him. And he’d betrayed him, lost his trust more times than he could count.

Dean had been drinking in the library, and Castiel had decided to basically drink a liquor store again. Despite how awful it had felt the last time; he’d wanted to numb the feelings that he couldn’t seem to keep from leaking out.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, the liquor had had the opposite of its intended effect on Castiel. He’d found himself popping in to check on Dean. He told himself it was reasonable, to want to make sure Dean was okay, that it was normal.

That was how he’d found himself face to face with Dean, inches apart. He’d forgotten about personal space again, and in his intoxicated state, had found he didn’t much care to follow that social convention. Instead he’d stared into Dean’s eyes, those eyes that were an impossible shade of green, watching him with interest.

Castiel had parted his lips to say something, anything to explain his presence, but it turned out that hadn’t been necessary because before he could get out a single word, Dean had closed the remaining distance and pressed their lips together.

Castiel had felt his eyes fly wide before they fluttered closed, and he gave in to feel of Dean’s lips on his. It was warm, soft and gentle. Much gentler than he’d imagined Dean would be as a kisser. When Dean ran his tongue over Castiel’s lip and slipped it into his mouth, Cas let out a groan at the heat that flared between them.

When Dean finally pulled away, his eyes were surprised, but warm, and he smirked at Castiel’s dazed expression. Castiel flushed under the scrutiny, but he didn’t have much time to be embarrassed because Dean kissed him again, and again, and again. And there really wasn’t much room for thought when Dean Winchester was focused on making you come undone in his arms.

* * *

The first time that Castiel had told Dean he loved him was the morning after they’d kissed. Well, they’d done more than kiss; it had been an incredible night in Dean’s bed. Full of firsts for Castiel, and Dean too, to a lesser degree. Castiel was still reeling when Dean woke up, he’d spent the night watching Dean sleep, sated.

He’d spent the time counting every freckle on his face, and then the parts of him that hadn’t been covered by blankets. Castiel thought he could spend a lifetime tracing Dean’s freckles with his eyes, and it still wouldn’t be enough time to truly appreciate them.

When Dean had woken up, it had been slowly, luxuriously. He’d stretched his muscles with a groan, and felt the warmth of Castiel, still beside him. He’d smiled when he noticed that Castiel had spent the night, even though he knew Cas didn’t sleep anymore.

“Hey.” Dean had said, voice rough with sleep.

“Hey.” Castiel had echoed, lying on his side, facing Dean.

“You stayed.” Dean had remarked, giving Cas a grin.

“I love you.” Castiel had countered simply in answer. “It seemed the correct thing to do.”

Dean’s face had flamed at the words, which to him, were much more intimate than what had transpired the night before. Sure, it had been there in everything they’d done, and he felt it back without a shadow of a doubt, but he’d never been good at expressing his feelings.

“Cas, I, uh, Me too, buddy. I’m glad you stayed.”

Castiel had smiled, thinking it was pretty cute the way that Dean had trouble with his feelings. He understood that Dean was saying he loved him back, even if he hadn’t come out and said it. The knowledge had spread through him like a sunny day in spring, soaking into him, and lighting him up.

* * *

The first time that Dean had said he loved Castiel it had been a complete surprise to both of them. They’d been hunting, and the thing had been bigger and badder than they’d imagined. All of them, Dean, Sam and Castiel had gotten pretty banged up by it. Normally Castiel just would have used his grace to fix them up, but he was still using borrowed grace after Metatron had stolen his.

He felt a familiar guilt roil in his gut, not being able to fix Dean and Sam. Not being able to make them better, was excruciating for him. It made him feel useless, and pathetic; like he couldn’t do anything right. Sam had crawled into the car, and laid down in the back seat to catch his breath, but Castiel had remained, rooted to the spot, staring at his shoes.

Castiel could hear Dean walking over to him, but he didn’t look up into those eyes he loved so much. He felt like the world was collapsing because what use was he, when he couldn’t do simple things like heal the injuries they sustained.

“Cas, what’s going on man?” Dean asked, concerned.

“I just… I want to be able to heal you and Sam.” Castiel conceded, frowning at the ground. “I want to be useful, and I’m just… not. It’s so hard, Dean, to not be able to fix you.”

“Hey!” Dean exclaimed, reaching out to grab Castiel’s shoulders. “Listen to me, you’re useful Cas. You’re so much more than just your grace. You’re not even at a hundred percent, man, and you’re out here with us, fighting with us. That’s more than you have to do.”

Castiel still didn’t look up, just swallowed audibly, trying not to cry, because what was he even crying about? Things could be worse. They could always be worse. At least he had Dean, at least they were together. He sucked in a trembling breath, and forced his eyes up to Dean’s.

Dean felt his heart squeeze at the pain in Castiel’s shining eyes, the guilt and overwhelming sadness in them were pressing in on him. So he did the only thing he could think of to make it better. He’d been meaning to do it for years now anyway, and he had never managed to.

“It’s okay. I love you, Cas. With or without the mojo, man, I love you.” He told him, voice horse.

Cas smiled, then, eyes still watery, and he threw himself into Dean’s arms. Dean whispered it to him over and over, as he rubbed his back. Hoping that Cas would believe it enough to forgive himself, and to understand that Dean wasn’t going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check me out on Tumblr @daydreamdestiel for more fun! I do prompts/fancasts/ships for every hundred followers I get!


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